


Not Afraid To Act

by SomethingCorprt



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Gallavich, M/M, Sex, Shameless, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-10
Updated: 2017-04-03
Packaged: 2018-09-16 23:28:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 10,896
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9294404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SomethingCorprt/pseuds/SomethingCorprt
Summary: Ongoing work picks up from S7. Mickey is in Mexico and Ian is dealing with the consequences of his decision.





	1. The Mourning

Ian felt hollow, a large black hole had swallowed him -- and not in a good way. Monica's passing and Mickey's departure were too much for him to deal with. He and Monica had always kept in touch unbeknown to his brothers and sisters. After all he and Monica were similar, both loving freely and intensely whether that was due to a manic episode or not. She was his only parent since Frank wasn't his biological father, and while he was on board with his sibling's assessment of the woman he couldn't help but try and keep some sort of communication with Monica, however sporadic it was. She knew the other side of bipolar disorder, the side that Fiona, Lip and Mickey would never understand despite all their effort. She didn't treat him as a victim. There was no reason to apologize for his disease in her presence.

Monica's body was returning to room temperature, everyone was leaving the funeral home and Ian had to keep busy so as not to lose his shit. He inhaled deep, the cold Chicago air filling his lungs, pulled on the fingerless gloves he had stolen from Mickey and lit a cigarette. The cloud of smoke was quickly left behind him because he started a brisk walk to nowhere in particular. The run-down houses of the south side were blurring together as the tears streamed down his face.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck" he mumbled to himself.

Frank's words ringing in his ears " _Monica was my pilot light_ " Ian shook his head as if that would get rid of the truth. He envisioned Mickey driving off to his new adventure in Mexico, one that Ian bailed on.

 _How did I let my pilot light go?_ he thought.

Ian couldn't just show up in a foreign country without a plan. That much was clear. That's why he turned down Mickey. But it was abundantly clear that Ian needed to be with Mickey--- for the long haul. Now it was just about logistics.

Several hours later Ian ended up in front of the Gallagher home. The porch was falling apart, wood missing from the railing... the flimsy metal gate ajar... the lights were on and there was some commotion coming from inside which was very much audible from the street. Basically, a normal night. Ian took a few long strides and he was at the front door. Before he could turn the knob, Fiona was pushing her way onto the porch grabbing Ian by the shoulders a combination of assertiveness and caution in her touch.

"Where ya been?" she asked as she wrapped her long sweater around her thin body scanning Ian's face for the tale tell signs of his manic behavior.

Ian knew that his sudden absence would cause concern but he didn't need to be supervised. No matter how his siblings felt about Monica it was the end of a chapter for everyone to some degree or another, why couldn't he just have a few moments alone with his thoughts?

"Took a walk, just wanted to sort things out by myself for a while" he attempted to maneuver around Fiona-- this conversation was making him uncomfortable.

Fiona instinctively blocked the doorway with her arm. Ian had more than 100 pounds on his sister and towered over her but he knew better than to underestimate her stature, all those years of dragging Frank in the house when he was passed out did her well physically.

"Not so fast Ian, promise me you'll tell me if you feel... different."

Ian shouldn't feel surprised by his hawk of a sister but his annoyance was seething through his cool pale skin.

"Sure Fi" Ian removed Fiona's arm from the doorway and walked inside.

The family was filled with grief, empty pizza boxes were strewn about the living room. There were three 24 can cases of beer stacked in the corner which Liam was sitting on, four bottles of Jack on the coffee table and two bottles of orange juice on the TV stand.

"We saved you some pizza" said Carl.

"Thanks bro" said Ian.

"Remember the microwave doesn't work so your best bet is to put the slice on top of the stereo" chipped in Debbie.

"No worries, I like cold pizza" said Ian.

He removed his coat, carefully took off his fingerless gloves and made sure to put them in his jacket's inside pocket and went for the remaining pizza.

Lip was sitting in the kitchen making a list, _"_ Way to take off, dick" he threw in Ian's direction but continued writing.

"We've all got a part to play" said Ian taking a seat next to Lip. "What're you doing?" asked Ian stuffing his mouth with pizza.

"I'm going to go back to school... Just trying to find my way back" replied Lip.

"You know, in therapy they always told us to visualize" Ian made air quotes around the word visualize.

Lip said "Yeah? Well visualize this" and gave his brother the middle finger.

Ian took another bite of pizza, swallowed and patted his brother on the back. "I know you can do it" leaving his hand on Lip's shoulder to emphasize the sincerity of his words.

"We're going to make a list for you too" replied Lip.

"Whoa there, don't get ahead of yourself now. I need a novel, fuck your list" said Ian and then he took a long gulp of the remaining drink left on the table.

"Nah man, you're in the best place I've seen you in in a while..." praised Lip. "You found a job you're connected to, you bring in a steady paycheck while I've dicked around... the tables have turned my brother."

There was some truth to Lip's words. Ian was plagued with being erratic over the last couple of years. Now there was a sense of stability in his life, for now at least.

"Number one on your list is to get to paramedic status. Number two learn a second language, it's going to help with the patients. Number three apply for your passport and lastly go bang that Milkovich kid."

Ian almost spit out his drink, "Excuse me?"

Lip stopped writing long enough to look at his brother with that deadpan stare of his "What?"

Ian looked at Lip his eyes bulging out of his head "Why am I getting a passport and banging Mickey? He's M.I.A. last I remembered." Ian hoped his eyes weren't betraying his heart which was still at the border to be honest.

"I may have fucked up my education and potential career" said lip "but I never failed to know when my brother's up and left with an escaped criminal."

Ian's face matched his hair, the humiliation of being found out, by being called out on his shit by Lip nonetheless. Lip went back to writing saying nothing more, Ian stared out the window.

"So, what do I have to do?" asked Ian.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It wasn't the bright sun bathing the room or the soft crash of waves that woke up a still very intoxicated Mickey. What brought him back to the here and now was a voice, Ian's voice, replaying in his mind. _"This isn't me.."_ well it sure as shit felt like Ian.

The disappointment hung heavy on Mickey's mind. It had been three days but Mickey still tasted Ian on his lips and the copious amounts of alcohol did nothing to wash him away. He yanked away the top sheet that was covering him, swung his legs over the edge of the bed and knocked down several beer cans in the process. A belch three times the size of the man escaped his chest.

Mexico was treating him well despite his broken heart. Already he found a place to crash, a vast improvement from his state provided cot at the prison.

The bedroom window faced the ocean which is what he dreamed of but he was missing a certain someone to complete the picture. _His fuckin' loss_ thought Mickey. Regaining his sense of the surroundings, Mickey got up from the bed and walked over to the bathroom to relieve himself.

Empty beer cans littered the bathroom as well. Mickey shook a few empties and tossed each to the side like an assembly line worker. He found one that still had a significant amount of beer and brought it closer to his nose. He took a whiff, shrugged his shoulders and cocked his head to the side drinking the remaining beer while continuing to urinating.

 _Fuck that asshole_ he thought, I'm a free man literally and figuratively in a beautiful country.

Mickey shook dry and turned around beelining for his bed. _A few more hours rest and I'll be happier than a pig in shit_ he thought.

Mickey threw himself on the small bed landing face down on the pillow. As soon as he closed his eyes Ian's face loomed into view. Mickey grumbled and flipped himself onto his back. He settled in and closed his eyes. Again there was Ian's face haunting him, soft freckles lining Ian's pale cheeks, red hair falling perfectly without any effort, intense green eyes burning into Mickey's soul shaking him to his core.

Finding no reprieve in unconsciousness Mickey decided to cut his losses and start the day.

There's no clock in the apartment by choice, Mickey had been assessing time by the glare of the sun and the trash piling in the apartment. Now, best guess it was 11 o'clock in the morning.

Mickey reached for the jeans at the foot of the bed. He pulled on the jeans which hung loosely on his lower hips. He walked over to the suitcase he brought with him and rummaged through it for a shirt finally deciding on a white fitted tank top. Mickey decided that today was the last day he'd let Ian plague him. This was a new chapter in his life and he wasn't going to waste any more of it on the ginger he left at the border. Pining in prison the last few years was enough. The last three days would be the last grip on his former life in Chicago. Certain of himself Mickey slipped on a pair of sunglasses and left the apartment.

Outside Mickey's senses were assaulted with the sounds of life emanating from the small beach town. Vibrant hues of lush greens, blues and oranges greeted him, the smell of sweet warm corn wafted through the air. Mickey took a deep breath connecting him to his new life free of restrictions. Possibility washed over him-- a feeling he wasn't to familiar with but was eager to explore. As he exhaled the final weight of thug life and heartbreak left him too. Mickey jumped into this new life uninhibitedly.


	2. Chapter 2 Taking in Destruction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ian is trying to take the right steps to being with Mickey, but is Mickey over his beloved fire crotch's antics?

Ian was walking into the station house for his shift. This was his first day back after the Monica Mickey Fiasco of 2016. The crew was nice enough to send a gift basket after learning about Monica but what they didn’t know was that Lip kept the good stuff for the house and then re-wrapped the remaining non-perishables and sold it to someone else. That’s the South Side way after all.  

Sue was there to greet Ian.

“Hey, Ian… How you holding up?”

A loaded question for Ian but who had the time for his saga. Sue had been there through Ian’s rookie mistakes and was a huge help. Her view on Ian’s illness had definitely transitioned from having reservations, to how to manage and Ian was grateful for the opportunity to have stable employment and a mentor.

“Doin’ ok Sue, thanks for asking.” replied Ian. 

“Good.. good.” returned Sue. 

Ian made his way to his locker and changed into his EMT uniform. As he was finishing up the last few buttons, Ian walked back out to where Sue was sitting at her desk. Paperwork littered the tiny desk, reports, remaining paychecks, new procedures rolling out all mixed together on the 66” by 30” carbon fiber plywood structure.

“Hey Sue...” started Ian, Sue looked up from the report she was overlooking “Yeah Gallagher?”

Ian’s nerves were taking over him. How could someone who’s had as little time on the job as he had become a paramedic. He wasn’t ready for this shit. But when he thought about what was on the line all his nerves dissipated. 

“I was wondering what it took to become a paramedic.”  

This was not the direction Sue thought Ian was going to take this conversation in. The kid had barely made it into her station house last year, now here he was with some new found ambition to climb the ranks? Sure, he was the best EMT she had hired in a long time, his basic training scores matched her perfect scores and when it came down to it Ian did not buckle under the pressures of being a first responder. Perhaps it was because his life was in a constant state of first response. Five siblings, a deadbeat dad, he scavenged his whole life. There’s no doubt in her mind that Ian would make a fantastic paramedic but it seemed rushed, and rushed meant an underlying issue, which could be a manic episode. Especially since he experienced a loss such as his mom dying. Not to mention the impromptu couple of days he missed before for no apparent reason. All this was registering in Sue’s mind, with Ian’s well being at the forefront.

“Well, Gallagher...” she began “why do you think now’s the time?” 

Ian could see where she was coming from. If he was in her position he’d question himself too.

“Sue, I’ll be honest. I love what I do and I’m good at it. It’s probably the only thing in my life outside of ROTC in high school that I’ve ever been good at. This past year… it’s taught me a lot, mostly about myself.” Ian took a breath, he didn’t want to seem to eager, he didn’t want this to feel like an interview. He needed Sue to know that this was bigger than him though and if Ian was good at anything other than his job it was being a bleeding heart. Empathy exuded from every fiber of Ian, so much so that he sacrificed himself on a daily basis for the people he loved. Everyone of them except for Mickey for some odd reason. It was time for him to deliver on his promise to Mickey.

“I want to be able to do more than just put a bandaid on it and pass the baton to the real heros. I want to do more.”

Sue let this marinate for a little while. She knew that in Ian’s current position he didn’t just pass the baton. Ian had more baby deliveries in the last year than most EMT’s and it wasn’t because of the teen pregnancy in the South Side. He had performed CPR on several patients reviving them. Sue also knew Ian’s persistent nature and unyielding resolve weren’t going to crack.

“OK Gallagher.” said Sue. 

She opened up one of the drawers rummaged through it for the paramedic application and handed it to Ian. 

“Classes start next week. Course material can be found at the listed stores. Just cause you ace the class doesn’t mean you ace the state exam, but I don’t think you’ll find it challenging.” 

Ian was beaming, “Thank you Sue! You won’t regret this” said Ian. 

“Yeah, I’ve heard that before Gallagher.”

Ian felt a tad bit closer to Mickey with the application in his hand. If Mickey knew what Ian had planned… oh man Mickey would either cut his fuckin’ tongue out or better. Ian achieved his first step of getting Mickey back. But what if when he got to Mexico --- and who knew exactly where in Mexico this would all be taking place---  Mickey had someone else? Ian pushed the thought away. It made no difference Ian had to go big or literally go home.

_________________________________________________________________________

Mickey’s normally porcelain skin had acquired a bronze glow or as much of a bronze glow someone of his pigment could attain. His routine over the last couple of weeks was to sleep in till 10 AM, then hit the beach for a few hours. He had learned how to stand on a surfboard rather comfortably for someone who never dipped a toe in a real fucking ocean. Today was no different, he headed for the beach dragging his chair in the sand behind him. When he got to his usual spot by the shady palm tree --- a good distance from the touristy section of the beach but close to the beach bar that understood “whiskey”  --- it was occupied by some local. 

“Yo, hola motherfucker, move your ass!” 

But the local didn’t budge. Mickey moved closer to the man in his spot, if this was south side or prison the guy would have been shanked by now. 

“Se ñ ore, á ndale! Arriba, arriba!” 

Mickey had not picked up any useful Spanish since his immersion into Mexican life. The man came into better view as Mickey got closer. He had jet black hair just like Mickey’s. His eyes were as blue as sapphires the other end of the spectrum being Mickey’s crystal blue. Mickey stopped in his tracks. He was captivated by the strange man and moved closer in a predatory fashion. 

“You stupid or something, I said move.” A weak response but Mickey’s insides were twisting up over this guy.  _ Had he been here on the beach before?  _ Mickey didn’t think so, he would have noticed him right away.  _ Was this guy undercover? Was Mickey being busted for escaping prison? Was this guy deaf? _

Intrigue was winning over self preservation in Mickey. 

“Mikhailo Milkovich?” asked the man with hypnotizing eyes. 

“Who the fucks askin’?” responded Mickey, he had to look away from those eyes; staring at him directly was like looking at a car crash. It's not everyday that you see something of that magnitude and as much as you want to look away --cause gawking is taboo-- you can’t seem to stop taking in the destruction. Not to mention, how the hell did this guy know his name, his full name. Sirens were going off in Mickey’s mind but he gravitated towards him. 

“I’ll take that as a yes? Have to say, you have good taste.” said the man as he looked around the pristine beach with its see through water. “My names Jordan, I’m a friend of your sister Mandy.” 

Things were starting to click for Mickey. The only person who knew where he would be was Mandy. He sent her a postcard after he had settled into his new place. The postcard was blank so if  the cops questioned her it couldn’t be used as evidence and she wouldn’t be withholding information because after all it was blank. Mandy would have to do her own detective work if she cared about ever seeing her brother again. Mickey hoped that at some point after dropping this clue Ian would catch wind of it, but it had been a few weeks now and no Ian. Shocker. 

Mickey wasn’t about to turn away some serious eye candy though. Damn, Jordan just kept getting better as Mickey looked him up and down. Jordan had broad shoulders filling out his black fitted tank top and a narrow waist; the faint hint of abs outlined by the clingy material. His bathing suit bottom hung loosely revealing a deep V cut giving Mickey ideas of what connected at the bottom of that V. His skin was sun kissed and those arms, well, he wouldn’t have a problem lifting a grandfather clock. By himself. And Mickey went there again. To a memory of Ian. When in front of him was Adonis’s twin, Mickey brought up fucking Gallagher. 

Mickey rubbed his left ass cheek instinctually. “Well Jordan, sorry you wasted your time. Now get the fuck out of my spot.” 


	3. Chapter 3 - Run For Your Life

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "I need another lover  
> Like I need another hole  
> On the side of my temple, forever blowed  
> Like brains and eardrums as they explode  
> Got me running for my life, I suppose  
> ...  
> So, uh, shut the fuck up sometimes and listen to me  
> Not tryna be rude but having an attitude  
> Is counterproductive to being blissful  
> Make me not miss you"
> 
> \--Big Grams Run For Your Life

Jordan thought about Mandy. Specifically what she’d do to him if he didn’t follow through with their mission. Mandy was initially a business partner but over the last 2 years she’d become more than that. Jordan didn’t know how to define their relationship. They were friends ninety percent of the time and Jordan felt like a little bitch compared to Mandy the other ten percent of the time. It was a fair trade as far as he was concerned. When Mandy asked him to run an errand for her on his next trip to Mexico, dealing with her escape convict of a brother wasn’t what he was expecting her to inquire about. Mandy rarely talked about her life before the escort business, and for her to open up to Jordan... he’d never seen her that vulnerable. So Jordan did what he always did when it came to Mandy, he gave in.

“Mandy said you’d be… apprehensive.” said Jordan exhaling loudly. Apprehensive was an understatement. The man who stood before him was skeptical as fuck. If Jordan didn’t have practice dealing with Mandy he might have initially hightailed it off the beach. However, he learned how to navigate the Milkovich minefield early on.

“What’s that C-Cup asshole want? replied Mickey crossing his arms, hugging his well defined biceps close to his chest. Jordan kept eye contact with the broody man in front of him. Despite his stiff body language, those blue eyes told a different story. Jordan could see him softening ever so slightly at the mention of Mandy. Mickey’s curiosity won over this time.

“Well, first she wanted to make sure you were alive. Cross that off my list. But she’s got a job for you.”

Jordan took a seat under the palm tree letting his long legs stretch out in front of him. His arms fell behind his torso supporting him causing his chest to puff out as he looked at the peaceful ocean. Jordan patted the sand beside him motioning for Mickey to join him. Jordan decided he needed to take control of the situation... or as much control you can take from a Milkovich. The trick was making a Milkovich think it was their idea the whole time, but Jordan needed to speed things along, time is money.

Mickey raised his eyebrows in response to Jordan’s patronizing mannerisms. _Was this guy serious?_ he thought. Mickey laughed, rubbed his nose with his thumb and contemplated if Mexican prison was really all that bad.

Jordan knew what that eyebrow expression was about. God, he was just like Mandy. What was it with these Milkovich’s? Quick to beat the shit out of you and then console you afterwards.

“Just hear me out. Really, hear your sister out. And if you don’t want in I’ll just tell her I couldn’t find you. But trust and believe that if I go home without any answers, Mandy will be making a trip to this side of the border and I’m sure that loving nature of her’s is much more compelling.”

Mickey cracked his knuckles, all fourteen of them and decided this fucknut wasn’t worth a Mexican prison. He sat down next to Jordan under the palm tree and the shade gave him sudden relief from the glaring sun.“Spit it out, it’s hot as balls out here and I didn’t come just for the view.”

Jordan laughed, “Alright sour patch kid, your sister and I? We run our own escort business now. We thought you could handle the business or at least facilitate with business on this end of the border.”

Mickey blanched and the idea of his sister running a business. “How the fuck..” he began rubbing the back of his neck but Jordan cut him off.

“Long story short, your sister and I met while being escorts together. We bought our way out, and brought the quality ass with us one by one. Now we basically run Chi-town and we’re expanding.”

Mickey let out a huge sigh as he pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and pointer finger. His little sister was up to some shit while he was locked up, of that he was certain. But he never thought the runt would devour the escort business the way Jordan put it. While in shock, he was actually proud of his little sister. To think, a Milkovich running a legitimate business. No college, no trust fund… the South Side was her classroom and now look where it got her. “No shit?” Mickey finally said, “So what would I be doing exactly?”

“Well you have experience according to Mandy, you’ve been a pimp in the past?” Mickey’s clear blue eyes clouded up thinking about the rub and tug. It wasn’t the best scheme he ran over the years, but it was the only one he didn’t have to lie about. Honest money for honest work. The oldest profession in the world was clearly still a money maker no matter what language you spoke--pleasure was universal. While professionally Mickey was doing OK with the rub and tug, personally it was hell. Dealing with Svetlana and her cum guzzling sisters wasn’t easy. The overhead, Yev, Ian… any money he saw went right back out. The business wasn’t the most profitable under his “leadership” but the offer was attractive... running a business with his sister of all people. As far as he knew there wasn’t any sort of overhead and it would be joining an already established network. On the other hand didn’t he leave the South Side to get away from this shit? The reality of Mickey’s situation was eventually Ian’s money would run out and then what was he going to do, become respectable? Learn Spanish and be a productive part of society? At least if he worked with Mandy and told her to fuck off he wouldn’t lose his job.

Jordan could see Mickey was thinking it over and he knew better than to pressure for an answer. “Look think it over, I’m in Mexico for another day or two setting up appointments.” Jordan stood up, and reached into the back pocket of his shorts removing a business card. Mickey took in Jordan’s full height still seated beside where Jordan previously sat. Jordan reaching into his pocket caused his shorts to dip even lower giving Mickey an even better view. Jordan handed the card to Mickey who was holding his breath.

“Give me a call or stop in at the address listed. If you show up I can show you around and there’s a free beer on me.” he said with a wink.

Jordan sauntered off of the beach towards the touristy section and was swallowed by the crowd. Mickey realized he had been staring off in the direction Jordan exited the beach well after he was gone. He pressed the palms of his hands into his eyes and shook his head. He looked the business card over again flipping it in his hand. The business card was all black with a script M engraved. The other side was all black.

“What fuckin’ address is this” Mickey started to say and when his thumb brushed against the blank side he saw digits. Mickey rubbed the digits in the opposite direction and the digits disappeared again. Mickey then rubbed the full length of the business card again and an address with phone number appeared. “That bitch” Mickey trailed off laughing. Mandy was always secretly into spy shit and this had her signature written all over it. He stuck the business card into a pocket of the fold out beach chair and walked towards the tide.


	4. Cleaning Up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I've been MIA, dealing with some medical issues. I hope that I can get back to posting weekly or close to weekly. I'm sorry if the Spanish is incorrect. As always comments and feedback are greatly appreciated. Thank you to everyone who's read, left a comment or a kudos!

Ian was taking another practice test. His first practice test just a few weeks into his course had gone well, even Sue was pleased with his progress in the paramedic course. But for Ian each passing mark, each question he got right felt like he was making good on his silent promise to Mickey.

_ When there are abnormalities in the flow of CSF through the ventricular system it can cause an excess of fluid to build up in the brain. This is referred to as what condition? _

_ Hydrocephalus _

Ian checked his watch, there were 15 minutes left to complete the test but he was already down to his last few questions. He marked off the appropriate bubbles for the remaining questions, laid his pencil down and flipped the exam over to the beginning. Ian slumped in his chair letting his head fall back so he was staring at the ceiling.

  


He closed his eyes and was transported to the same scenario that had been occupying every moment of his down time. Ian was on the dimly lit docks. The soft bobbing of nearby boats lulling Ian’s buzzing nervous energy to a halt. The cool air tingled Ian’s cheeks. The outline of a shorter man sporting a puffy coat coming up to him caused Ian to instantly heated up. Before Ian knew what he was doing, the two men crashed together. A tangle of lips, tongues, passion, and fury.

  


“Mickey” Ian whispered.

  


“Gallagher… Gallagher!”

  


Ian felt a heavy hand on his shoulder. His eyes flew open, he was startled and looked around not comprehending his surroundings.

  


“Gallagher, time’s up!” the tall slender instructor was hovering over Ian. A mix of concern and agitation twisted the instructors face zoning in on Ian.

  


“Sorry instructor Peterson.” Ian choked out steading his heartbeat.

  


Peterson gave Ian a final once over before feeling confident that his brightest student wasn’t having any type of medical emergency. “Was my practice test to easy for you that you decided to get some beauty sleep? I’ll make sure to make the final much harder for you.” Peterson said gathering the practice test from Ian’s desk.

  


Ian began to rise from his desk; which was much to small for someone to of Ian’s height to fit comfortably in. “No, instructor Peterson, the test was evenly paced for where we are in the course.” Ian managed to croak out before Peterson turned on his heels and walked away from Ian. “ _Shit”_ Ian thought glancing at his watch. Ian must have been out for at least 5 minutes. He hoped he hadn’t done anything to embarrassing while dreaming of Mickey. At least at home he could clean up whatever mess dream Mickey left behind. Dream Mickey was just as bad as the real life Mickey in the sense that Ian had washed his sheets and boxers as frequently as a 15 year old boy,  but if the same thing had happened while in class.. Shit. Ian nervously brushed his hand near his crotch to make sure that he hadn’t seeped through to his pants. It was just a kiss, a very passionate kiss, one that left Ian’s lips searing, but this was the effect that both dream and real Mickey did to Ian. He bolted out of the classroom in desperate need to get home and quell the sexual desires that his subconscious apparently had planned for him.

  


Back at home Ian had finished showering and doing yet another load of laundry when his phone began to buzz. He looked down at the caller ID which displayed a picture of a smiling dark haired woman in her early twenty-somethings. Her very striking features would stop any man or woman in their tracks, but what caught Ian off guard were her aquamarine colored eyes. He picked up immediately.

  


“Hola hermosa” Ian cooed into the phone. On the other end Ian could hear her laugh.

  


“Gracias, but I think you meant to say hermoso especially when you see your boyfriend, don’t want to make that mistake.”

  


Ian corrected himself “Hermoso, got it. Are we still on for later today?” asked Ian.

  


“Pero por supuesto.” came sing song from the other end of the line.

  


Ian thought over the womans reply and took it for a good thing responding “Great see you there, adios!” and ended the call. As Ian was getting dressed he prepared for his impending Spanish lesson. He was trying to decide between an azul or verde shirt. Blue was always complimenting but green always upped the ante. Ian finally decided on the blue shirt with dark washed jeans. He grabbed his notebook and a pen and headed out of the Gallagher home for the L.

  


Ian arrived outside of a local supermarket, originally he thought a supermarket was an odd place to have a Spanish lessons, but after a few weeks of walking aisle by aisle of the supermarket and learning the Spanish translation for bananas to garbage bags things were starting to click. Ian thought back to the first time he met Theresa. He found her add on craigslist, it was the most bizarre ad for a Spanish tutor so naturally Ian had to inquire. After both Ian and Theresa decided they weren’t catfishing each other Theresa agreed to tutor Ian. She told him to meet her at the market and to wear something distinctive so she would know it was him. Ian didn’t know what that meant exactly, and he wasn’t going to show up in tight gold shorts which was his immediate thought. He decided to borrow Lip’s shirt that said fuck a bunch of times because that’s pretty distinctive. However he didn’t realize how form fitting and uncomfortable the shirt was until halfway to his destination point. He nervously tugged at the collar of the shirt which caused the shirt to rise exposing his abdomen. Ian quickly tugged at the hem of the shirt to cover his stomach causing the collar to fall tightly around his neck, it was a never ending battle between the collar and the hem and Ian was caught in the middle. Ian and Lip were used to borrowing each others stuff but were they at a point where even simple t-shirts were now off limits? Theresa had spotted Ian right away and poked fun at him for his choice in crop tops. Now Theresa was adopted into the Gallagher clan.

  


Theresa ran up and hugged Ian from behind making him lose his balance. Ian teetered but gained his footing “So which aisle to you want to hit today?” asked Ian. Theresa shook her head, her long brown hair waving languidly behind her. “No market today” responded Theresa “we’re heading to the laundromat” and she pointed across the street to the Loads of Suds. This was a new environment for their Spanish lessons, Ian wasn’t sure what he needed to learn in a laundromat but he also didn’t know how much he’d pick up in the market and that had pleasingly surprised him.

  


The two compadres made their way into the laundromat and Ian noticed that this specific laundromat was completely different than any he had ever seen. There were two large tv screens playing a telenovela that all the patrons were deeply engrossed in. The churn of the washing machines were soothing and the driers buzz didn’t stir the audience one bit. Small kids kept running in and out of the establishment bringing the small crowd coffee and snacks and pocketing small tips. Apparently the laundromat was going to be a wealth of knowledge.

  


The program went to commercial break and the crowd dispersed to their respective machines. With lightening speed machines were emptied and loaded, dryer sheets were floating in the air, soap was dispensed and poured from small cups. The telenovela theme music started and the crowd was back to positions stock still in front of the television. On screen two women were screaming at each other and there was a hot guy in the middle of it. While Ian wasn’t sure exactly what they were saying he could guess that this was a nasty love triangle.

  


“Theresa…” Ian whispered and Ian was lightly slapped on his arm by one of the patrons next to him. Ian looked at the patron, and then to Theresa. Theresa only shook her head and waved a finger at him in warning. Ian continued to watch the screen trying to follow along only understanding a few words at a time. Ian took out his notebook and scribbled the words phonetically he heard and would ask Theresa about them later.

  


An hour later after the smell of bleach had caused enough brain damage for one day a weepy Theresa and thoroughly confused Ian left the laundromat. When they were halfway towards the L Ian thought it was safe enough to speak.

  


“Um.. what was that?” asked Ian.

  


“That” Theresa spat out was every latina’s weakness. Telenovelas are no joke.” She dabbed as her eyes and pulled out a compact mirror to check that her eyeliner was in place. Ian took the compact out of her hand and threw it into her purse.

  


“You look fine, now what was it all about?” asked Ian again. Theresa sighed and began a whole tirade about Ernesto, Rosa and Sabrina. Ernesto was meant to be with Sabrina but her evil aunt Gladys would never allow her niece to be happy. Ernesto was forced to be in relationship with Rosa to keep Sabrina safe and now the two star crossed lovers are meant to live apart miserably. Ian could understand the living apart miserably storyline, over the last two years he was in denial about his own love life and how it had desperately spiraled out of control; dating men he thought were upgrades, and even having sex with a woman, but it all came to a screeching halt when he heard a certain man’s voice, felt his touch. Ian instantly wanted to know more about Ernesto and Sabrina and their fate. If They could fight for a happy ending, couldn’t Ian do the same for Mickey? Theresa continued on about the cast of characters but Ian was on autopilot the rest of the way home on the L.  
  
---


	5. Chapter 5 Losing My Edge?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mickey is reunited with family and doubts himself

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the Kudos and the comments! Please feel free to let me know if you're enjoying the story!

Mickey stood in front of the posh beach house closer to the city. As a rule he didn’t really venture to deep into the city. He felt like living on the outskirts of civilization was a better plan so as not to get caught. Plus he was cooped up enough all those years in jail with absolutely no privacy, no freedom-- that all he craved was space. All the people and close proximity of the houses, apartment complexes and buildings suffocated him. Mickey adjusted the collar of his t-shirt to give him some breathing room. Exasperated, Mickey quietly let out a  “fuckin’ Mandy” before manning up and letting himself inside the house. 

  


Upon entering the home, the posh exterior continued inside with a pretty modern feel. Colorful art hung from the stark white walls, there was minimal furniture and from the open concept foye he could see that there was a small gathering towards the rear of the house. Mickey apprehensively walked towards the small group, his flip flops smacking against the white marble floor beneath him. With each step Mickey heard the dollar signs racking up. Every possession had a pawn store price attached to it in the back of his mind. The US dollar to peso ratio was good but not this fucking good. As he got closer, the assembled crowd snuck glances in his direction. If his arrival wasn’t announced by his footwear, his out of place attire definitely announced there was an outsider among them. Mickey cleared his throat once he was within earshot of the group “Aye, is uh, Jordan here?” 

  


“And, you are?” asked one of the guys who looked Mickey up and down.

  


“Who the fuck are you?” replied Mickey quickly with a bite to his words. It had been some time since Mickey had to put on his protective persona. He thought the days of having to explain himself and fight to survive were behind him, but it was easy to slip into that skin. Before things could escalate Jordan appeared as if he sensed the tension was rising. 

  


“Miguel, how nice of you to join us!” cooed Jordan as he walked past the group and embraced Mickey. As Jordan leaned in bringing Mickey close to him he whispered in Mickey’s ear “Please just go along with it, OK? Mickey didn’t exactly hug Jordan in return but he didn’t push away. Mickey kinda stood there stunned. He hadn’t had much physical contact with anyone since being in Mexico and the feeling of anyone touching him, even for an instant, felt alien. Jordan released him from the hug and grabbed his hand turning and heading towards the backyard. “We’ll be outside if you need us!”

  


Jordan practically had to drag Mickey out of the kitchen before Mickey regained function in his legs. Mickey yanked his hand back from Jordan when they were finally outside. Away from the prying eyes of the group in the kitchen, Mickey kicked Jordan hard with his heel. 

  


“What the fuck was that Jordan?!” shot Mickey.

  


“Ow, Miguel” Jordan said through gritted teeth rubbing his throbbing behind, staring at Mickey. “What is wrong with you Milkoviches!”  

  


“Call me Miguel again asshole.” Returned Mickey raising his eyebrows challenging Jordan. 

  


“Or what, tough guy? You’re going to beat me with your flip flop?” said Jordan refusing to back down.

  


The two men stared each other down, neither one willing to back down just yet. Finally Mickey caught sight of what was just beyond Jordan and he had to do a double take. Sitting in a beach chair, overlooking the pristine pool, sat Mandy Milkovich. She had large Audry Hepburn sunglasses on, a floppy hat and her headphones were blaring something obnoxious. As much as Mickey wanted to run and pick his sister up, that wouldn’t be the Milkovich way. Instead he stealthily snuck past Jordan, came up behind Mandy’s beach chair and flipped her into the pool. Mandy had dropped her guard, but she didn’t drop her reflexes and as she was airborne she grabbed the collar of Mickey’s shirt with both hands and heaved him into the pool with her. As both Milkoviches came up for air the assault was still in full effect. Splashing and pushing Mickey and Mandy were relentless until finally they were laughing and helping each other out of the pool. The took a seat at the edge letting their legs dangle in the water. 

  


“Ass face that was the new IPhone!” screamed Mandy punching Mickey in the arm. 

  


“Looks like you can afford several IPhones bitch” said Mickey. 

  


Mandy and Mickey let a long stretch of silence fall between them. Mandy didn’t visit Mickey as often as she would have liked when he was locked up. It was partly because life had taken her away from the dysfunctional family and hard streets of the South Side. It seemed like that life was forever ago compared to where she was now. The other reason being she couldn’t stand to see Mickey behind bars. The concept wasn’t new to her, however all the other stints in juvie were different. None of those charges were half as serious as attempted murder, none of them carried the same time Mickey had faced and ultimately skipped out on. His previous stints didn’t effect his son. After all they had been through, she hoped Mickey would have the common sense to not take any of the bullshit out on Yevy. But Mandy saw that Mickey was furthering a cycle of poor decisions that would keep trickling down.

  


“Sorry I didn’t visit as much” was all she could come up with, the water dripping from her face mixing with silent tears.   
  
---  
  
“Aye, aye, come here, it’s OK” said Mickey reaching out his arm and bringing Mandy closer to him. He laid a kiss on top of Mandy’s head which she rested on his shoulder. 

  


Mickey broke the silence after a few moments “I thought you weren’t coming down yet, your secretary only saw me yesterday” said Mickey drily. Mandy snickered and picked her head up. “What can I say? Don’t let a man do a woman's job.”

  


“I can hear you assholes!” cried Jordan from behind them. Mandy glanced over at Jordan who began his way towards them figuring that the sentimental sibling time was over. Thankfully Jordan didn’t come empty handed.

  


“Mandy, honey, this one's for you” passing a bloody mary to Mandy and taking a seat next to her “and Miguel a cerveza for you.” 

  


“Why the fuck did you pick the cruise director as your business partner?” asked Mickey rolling his eyes. 

  


“He’s thoughtful and discreet as a motherfucker. Two traits very hard to find in your average escort. The longer you’re in this game you’ll understand.” 

  


Mickey looked at his younger sister, really looked at her, and for the first time took it all in. The hopeful girl he had left behind was gone. This was a calmer, more put together but more detatched girl than he remembered. Mandy was far from innocent but her hopeful demeanor was something Mickey felt he always needed to protect in the past. All hope was gone, and he wasn’t sure who was to blame for killing that part of his sister but he wished to g-d it wasn’t him. 

  


“And how long _have_ you been in this game?” Mickey asked. “I hope kegels are paying off.” Mandy smacked Mickey upside the head referencing that her lady parts were anything but stellar. “Fuck you Miguel” shot back Mandy knowing it would get under Mickey’s skin. “So do you want the tour or what?” 

  


Mickey looked at his sister, there was a time when “the tour” would mean standing in the Milkovich living room and just making a 360 degree turn. Tour over. Now his sister was living larger than any of them could have imagined. “Nah, just give me the highlights” replied Mickey. Mandy was half heartedly offended. “I finally achieve the American-Mexican dream and you won’t let me show off? Some brother you are.” 

  


It was Jordan who saved Mickey from Mandy’s guilt trip when he interrupted. “Mandy, I hate to remind you but we have a meeting in about an hour. Want me to have one of the girls help you get ready?” 

  


“Sorry Mick, business to attend to. Will you be here when I get back? It should only take two hours tops.” said Mandy.

  


“You got a stocked fridge?” asked Mickey. 

  


“Had it replenished just for your ass” quipped Mandy getting up from the edge of the pool. “And don’t mind those assholes in the kitchen” she added. “They work for me. If they know what’s good for them they shouldn’t piss off their boss.” As Mandy was getting up a petite oxidized blonde was heading towards them. The blonde took hold of Mandy’s hand and slipped it behind the small of her back bringing them closer together. “I heard you need help getting ready Miss Mandy?” the blonde said fluttering her eyelashes and trailing kisses up Mandy’s neck. Mickey furrowed his brow and gave his sister a quizzical look. Mandy let herself get lost in the girls touch before regarding her brother. “You have to know who’s working for you Mick. You’re not the only one who can play for the same team.” She gave Mick a wink and followed the giggling blonde into the house.

  


Mickey pushed himself off the edge of the pool into the cool water. Had that much changed while he was stuck-- stagnant. His sister had made leaps and bounds since he last saw her. And for the first time with a clear mind he thought about Ian and what he said down at the docks. 

  


_“I have my shit together Mickey! I have a boyfriend.”_

  


What right did Mickey have to jump back into a world that hadn’t stopped turning while his life was in a slow monotonous motion? Everyone seemed to have better themselves in his absence except for him. How did Mickey become the one to pity by his inner circle? Being offered a job by his sister, being pity fucked by his ex. Is this really what had his life had come to? Mexico was supposed to be the escape. In an instant though it had became the ever present reminder that Mickey was never going to be good enough. Not good enough as a brother, not good enough as a boyfriend, not even as a beach dweller. Would he always be living scam to scam without a real direction? Mickey dunked himself under the water slowly letting the air bubbles escape his nose. Everything was quite under the water. As the last bubbles weaved their way up to the surface Mickey emerged. Something had to change. He couldn’t try to make everyone happy or try to protect everyone which was in his nature. He had to start doing shit for himself. Otherwise he’d continue to be stuck trailing behind instead of being the trailblazer. 


	6. Realizations

“Ian… Ian!” The redhead was startled out of his power nap on the bus by Sue. “You feeling OK?” she asked.

Ian took a minute to look around, take in his surroundings, then looked straight at Sue realizing he was at work. He was in the middle of pulling a double, his third one this week. He peeled his face off the driver side window wiping the drool off the glass and ran a hand through his hair. When Ian wasn’t keeping up with the latest Sabrina news or studying, he was working. Sue’s brow was creased, her eyes scanning Ian. She knew he was overworking himself, but everybody copes differently. While she didn’t know what exactly was going on behind closed doors, you had to be stupid to not notice a change in Ian. “Go home Gallagher.” said Sue as she started to walk away from the bus. Ian clambered out of the bus, chasing after Sue. 

“What, I have another 4 hours left in my shift. No one’s even around who’s going to fill in?” said Ian an octave higher than his usual voice. Sue didn’t respond and just kept up the pace to her desk. She reached for the phone and Ian caught up to her placing a hand on the phone. “Sue, seriously, look at the time. It’s 2 AM, no one’s coming in.” Sue looked into his eyes, he had a point. The next shift would be coming in at 6 and she’d be a hypocrite sending Ian home because he fell asleep on the bus, who didn’t fall asleep for a few minutes during a double? “Fine” replied Sue replacing the handset back on the cradle. 

As if it was fate a call came through on the radio requesting EMS. Without hesitation Ian headed to the bus in response mode. “Hey Ian” Sue said “I’m driving.” Ian nodded in agreement and changed directions heading for the passenger seat. 

They arrived on the scene in three minutes lights illuminating the street around them. Sue cut the engine and they both hopped out with their gear. Police were already on the scene and gave a nod to the crew responding. “Whatta we got?” huffed Sue. 

The rookie cop supplied them with all the details. “Twenty-three year old female, unresponsive. Friends over there say she was fine all night and just dropped.” Ian followed up with “She take anything?” Rookie shook his head saying “they didn’t wanna fess up to anything but she smells like a bar bathroom.” Ian rolled his eyes at the cop. Like we all didn’t have a shit show of a night, pompous prick. 

Ian took out his penlight. “Mam?” he flashed the penlight in both eyes while securing a grip on her shoulder. He opened her mouth and flashed the pen in her mouth to check her airway. Sue was starting to get the girl’s pulse-ox and BP readings. One of the girls friends hurried over, mascara streaming down her face. It wasn’t hard to see that this girl was equally intoxicated. “She was fine, we were fine” the girl said hysterically. “Where’d you go tonight?” asked Ian. “We were at a house party, no where crazy.” Panic increasing in her voice. “We drank, smoked some weed” she trailed off. Ian and Sue continued to work lifting her onto the stretcher. “What’s her name?” demanded Sue. The girl bit her lip, unsure of how to answer the question. Her eyes dragged from her friend up to the sky. “If you’re her friend cut the shit” Sue pressed. The girl sighed and said “Lucy, her name is Lucy” before sobbing and clutching her arms tighter around her small frame. “Let’s roll” said Sue. Ian and Sue started to direct the stretcher towards the back of the bus, he looked over to the girl and asked “You coming?” At that the girl stopped crying and stumbled over following Ian. 

After the stretcher was secured in the back Ian and the girl climbed in as well. Sue was in the driver seat already starting the siren. “We’re good” called out Ian. The bus lurched into motion and they were off. Ian continued to work on his patient. Her vitals were stable for the most part, but why wasn’t she coming to? Ian applied an oxygen mask to the girl on the stretcher. The hysterical friend was solemn, looking between her unconscious friend and Ian searching for answers. Ian handed a tissue to the girl beside him. They were another 3 minutes out from the hospital. “Is Lucy allergic to anything?” asked Ian but he was met with a blank stare. He continued to work on Lucy by starting an IV of saline hoping to rehydrate her.

They arrived at the hospital, informed the intake nurse of their patients status and transferred Lucy into the care of the ER nurses. Sue and Ian were about to head outside when Ian caught the glimpse of a skinny, scruffy looking blonde with blue eyes. They weren’t as intense as the blue of Mickey’s but this was the closest he had seen and for good reason. Iggy Milkovich was now in front of Ian, he wanted to grab onto Iggy to make sure he was real but he was to afraid to move. 

Iggy looked him up and down before letting out a long whistle, “Heard you went legit fucker.”  Ian hadn’t been this close to a Milkovich since letting Mickey go at the border, he was afraid to blink fearing the man in front of him would disappear. Iggy kicked at Ian’s boot “You ok Ian? You look like a fuckin’ ghost.” Iggy’s eyes widened taking in Ian’s ashen color, his sunken in eyes. Ian just grabbed Iggy and embraced him, Ian took a deep breath but Iggy didn’t smell like Mickey. He quickly remembered where he was and let Iggy go. Iggy took another quizzical glance at Ian “Good to see you too man” as he lightly punched Ian in the arm. Iggy pulled a pack of cigarettes from his jacket shook them  in front of Ian and cocked his head towards the exit door. Ian nodded and the two men walked towards the Chicago night. 

“Don’t ask me where he is” Iggy started as he took a drag from his cigarette and offered the pack to Ian. “I haven’t heard from him and seeing as there’s weekly visits from one law man or another it’s probably best I didn’t hear from him.” Ian’s heart sank. In all of this planning for Mexico the one detail he hadn’t worked on was operation where’s Mickey. “If you do hear from him” Ian said lowering his voice and looking around to make sure there wasn’t anyone around “let me know?” Iggy inhaled another lung full of smoke, and itched at his face. “Just cause I haven’t heard from him doesn’t mean I don’t know what happened.” That statement hit Ian harder than he expected. Ian had forgot that there was another side, another perspective to their time together. Ian got so caught up in his mission, he was so self indulged, Mickey’s opinion didn’t even register. Ian rubbed at the back of his neck, the collar of his dress shirt suddenly feeling tighter. “Is he ok?” Ian said quietly. Now Iggy felt that same weight on his chest. “Man… How do you think he feels? I’m not saying anything else or I’ll get my tongue cut out and that’s a fact.” Ian didn’t want to push, Iggy probably said more than he was already supposed to. Sue was waving to him from the bus and Ian remembered that he was still on the clock. “I gotta go” Ian motioned with his thumb over his shoulder “but seriously if you hear from him let me know. Actually tell him that I’m sorry, and I’m coming.” Ian didn’t stick around for a rebuttal he clapped Iggy on the back and ran off towards the bus.


	7. Passion Against Common Sense

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ian is ready to get his man but there's one more thing he needs to take care of at home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am sorry if the Spanish is off, if you speak Spanish and wouldn't mind helping me for any future translation please let me know cause I would love the input! The Spanish in this chapter should work out to mean:
> 
>  
> 
> "I lost my normality  
> I always think of you  
> I always think of you  
> I wait for you in the dark  
> Wait for me in the dark. "
> 
> I'm sorry for the delay of this chapter. I couldn't find my muse. Thanks for sticking with me!

Ian stood outside of a high rise on the North side. He adjusted and readjusted his jacket. He shouldn’t be this nervous, but he was. The last few months he had put passion against common sense and it served him well. He was now a paramedic who was pretty fluent in Spanish. He wasn’t going to be writing the next great novella or anything, but he could communicate with patients and order a beer which was really all he needed at the end of the day. All of his accomplishments seemed easy though compared to what he was about to do. 

 

Confront Mandy Milkovich. 

 

His former best friend was living in this high rise and she would know where Mickey was. So Ian was going to let her ream him out, but he was going to leave here with the whereabouts of Mickey come hell or highwater. 

 

He walked into the building, was heading straight for the elevator but was stopped by a security guard before he could even press the call button for the elevator. 

 

“Excuse me, sir, are you visiting someone here today?” asked the guard. 

 

Ian rolled his eyes but realized that this guy was only doing his job so he’d play along. “Why yes, Gordon, is it?” Ian said sweetly looking at the guard's name tag. “I am here to see Mandy Milkovich? I’m an old friend you see.” 

 

“Well sir, I’m sure Mandy will be pleased to see you then. If I can just have you wait over here while I ring up to her room that would be much appreciated.” He gestured to a spot by the front desk. Ian would have tried to cajole the guard, hell he’d even try to slip him something under the table if he thought it would work, but this guy seemed impenetrable. Exasperated, Ian waited at the front desk drumming his fingertips on the desk. 

 

“Good afternoon Mandy, I’m so sorry to disturb you, but there’s a young man here to see you.” The guard placed his hand over the receiver and looked at Ian. “I’m sorry sir but who shall I say is calling?” If this guy could reign in the brown nosing things would go a lot faster. “Ian. Ian Gallagher.”  The guard nodded, removed his hand from the receiver and repeated Ian’s name. He must have heard some pretty profane language as he turned a shade of purplish blue that reminded Ian of Veruca Salt as blueberry. “Sir she’d like to speak with you.” He handed Ian the phone and stepped back giving them some semblance of privacy. 

 

“Fuck head, nobody wants you here!” Mandy screamed into the phone. 

 

Luckily Ian was prepared for the volume as he never placed the phone close enough to his ear. “Missed you too Mandy” Ian said smoothly. 

 

“Don’t you fuckin’ try it asshole, think I’d forgive you for what you did?” Mandy fired back.

 

Ian caught on really quick that she was being vague, not using names, or anything descriptive. The line must be tapped thought Ian so he came up with the best non apology he could think of. “Mandy, I was a walking Zombie, physically I was here but mentally? My mom died and I didn’t think I deserved the kinda love that she was capable of. I fucked up. But I’m trying to make it right. Doing what I want, what I believe in, what I know is true. Not living for other people anymore cause life is short.” 

 

There was silence on the other end.  _ “Did the bitch hangup?”  _ “Mandy?” squeaked Ian. 

“Put the desk back on” said Mandy flatley. 

 

Ian gave the phone back to the guard. “Yes Miss Mandy. Of course Miss Mandy.” Gordon hung up the phone and looked at Ian. She will have you up on one condition and I am not one to reason with a tenant, I’m sorry to make such a request but, you have to go up in your boxers, with your cellphone visible.” Obviously Gordon was uncomfortable, but Ian didn’t even blink. Take an elevator up in his boxers? Did Mandy remember the flimsy gold shorts he wore at the club? Without hesitation he started to remove each layer of clothing creating a small pile on the front desk. Ian popped his head up and looked Gordon directly in the eyes, “Did she say socks too?” Gordon just sputtered incoherently. “Well, better be safe than sorry, right?” said Ian answering his own question. 

 

So now Ian was down to his boxers riding up the elevator to the 21st floor. Gordon was nice enough to give him a plastic bag for his belongings minus the cellphone which was in his hand. The floors dinged away and Ian was thankful that Mandy was giving him any sort of time to explain himself. The elevator arrived at the 21st floor, the doors opened up to reveal a posh corridor. There were only 6 apartments on this floor, Mandy’s being at the end of the hall. Ian stepped out into the corridor he started walking towards Mandy’s door and before he could knock like a normal person, Mandy swung the door open blocking the entry way. 

 

“Good to see heartbreak fucked with your physique” quipped Mandy. She was annoyed but no more than her normal annoyed levels Ian noted. 

 

“Lost my shit in the beginning but I gave myself a goal so it’s been non stop hustling.” replied Ian cooley. Mandy didn’t budge from the doorway. She grabbed for Ian’s phone and started to scroll thru pictures and text messages snooping to make sure Ian was telling the truth. 

 

“Phone’s clean… then she took a rather large magnet and laid it on top of the phone before handing it back to Ian. She walked into her apartment and Ian followed suit. 

 

Inside was a fucking palace compared to the Milkovich household, apparently he wasn’t the only one hustling since they last spoke. Mandy threw herself onto a plush couch, kicking her feet onto the ottoman which could be considered a small bed to some people. “If your fuck face is looking for info I’m fresh out.” she sighed contently. Ian sat next to Mandy and turned to face her. “Look I’m going to cover every inch south of the U.S. border if I have to. You can either expedite my trip or prolong it. I’m fucking serious.” 

Mandy looked at Ian blankly. “Like I’d send you on a wild goose chase? Ian we’re besties! I wouldn’t do that to you.” Mandy replied snarkily. Ian rolled his eyes, if Mandy was being this much of a brat he need to up the groveling. Ian, still sans clothing, grabbed his phone and turned on the first dance track he could find. He upped the volume and began to dance as if he was back in the club. He straddled Mandy and began whispering hotly into her ear;

 

“He perdido la normalidad   
Yo siempre pienso en ti   
Yo siempre pienso en ti   
Te espero en la oscuridad   
Espérame en la oscuridad.”

 

Mandy was pinned to the back of the couch. Ian’s arms gave little room for Mandy to move, her eyes had more range than the rest of her body. Ian knew that an infamous Milkovich nipple pinch was bound to happen so with his last hip roll, Ian took Mandy’s hands and held them with one hand and was now grinding on Mandy with his back facing her. He sneaked a side glance Mandy was losing resolve. She was thinking how much Mickey should be enjoying this view and getting this sort of apology. Although Mickey was stoic as fuck she could tell how it was eating  Mickey not being with Ian. In the long run it was always going to be Ian. And this display, even if it was trivial, showed it was always going to be Mickey. No matter what. Maybe Ian needed to lose Mickey to get his ass in gear. Mandy made one swift upward movement of her knee straight into Ian’s package. Ian doubled over gasping for air. 

 

“Bitch” croaked out Ian who was curled on the beige carpeted floor, one hand holding his stomach, the other digging into the carpet as if this would keep him grounded. 

  
Mandy readjusted herself and stepped over Ian’s curled body. “Get up pussy! We've got a plane to catch.”


End file.
